


Suicidal Cats

by noodlesnake



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Creepy Ardyn, Fluff, Poor Prompto, Psychological Torture, Referenced Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Sharing a Bed, torture in general
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:59:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13330131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlesnake/pseuds/noodlesnake
Summary: A collection of fairly shot fics, mostly Prompto inspired. This is never going to be done, and I'd love to get some prompts in here :)





	1. Don't Let The Doctor In

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Kaciart for the wonderful idea, based from one of your works. http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/169398733073

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto has had enough of his barcode. Warnings apply from tags.

Ardyn is starting to annoy Ignis. He doesn’t trust him, and showing up at just the right moment to save them from Titan’s destruction was just a bit too convenient. Now, sitting on an Imperial dropship, Ignis begins to regret following Ardyn to the Disc in the first place. 

“Isn’t this nice!” Ardyn comments across from the four of them.

“No,” they all reply, almost in sync.

“My, my. Well if you are not enjoying yourselves, why don’t you just take a nap, pass the time,” then, at the group’s wary expressions, “come now, it is still ways to our destination. I can promise your safety.” 

“Might as well,” Ignis tells Noct, who was already nodding off.

“Yeah,” he eyes Ardyn before his eyes fall closed and he starts to snore lightly. Gladio follows in suit, but Ignis can tell he has no intention of sleeping, neither does Ignis. He looks at Prompto, farthest from him and beside Noct, playing on his camera.

“Prompto,” he says, “get some sleep.”

“S’okay, Iggy,” he smiles nervously, “I rather keep watch.”

“As you wish,” Ignis turns over in his chair, closing his eyes, still facing Prompto. He lets his breathing even out, and after five minutes, he hears Ardyn shuffle, sounding like he’s beside Prompto now. Hushed whispering in a deeper voice. He can’t quite make out the words, but it doesn't sound threatening. A lighter, shaky inhale. More shuffling, and Prompto’s voice, a quiet ‘no’. It isn’t angry, more like disbelief. Quiet laughter from Ardyn. Ignis opens his eyes a crack, where Ardyn kneels in front of Prompto, hand on the quivering boy’s knee, speaking softly.

“Hands off,” Ignis growls, Ardyn turning towards him. Gladio, facing Ignis, opens one eye, but Ignis shakes his head, and he closes them again.

“Awake, are we?” He smiles once more at Prompto before leaving to the front of the ship.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Did- did you hear any of that?”

“No. What was he on about?”

“Dunno. He… wasn’t really making sense,” Prompto shrugs, still slightly pale.

“I see. Let me keep watch for a bit?” He asks tentatively.

“No, thanks though,” he says, returning to his camera, cheerful demeanor gone.

_______.

Ardyn drops them off at the Chocobo ranch without a word, just a wispy smile for Noctis and a clasped hand on Prompto’s shoulder, making all of them flinch. They decide, after mourning the Regalia, that they should break at the ranch for a bit. The fight with Titan had drained all of then, Noctis especially, all the air seemingly gone from him.  

“Oh! Noct- hold still!” Prompto snaps a shot of a dreary Noctis getting his hair preened by his chocobo.

“Couldn’t move if I wanted to,” he grumbles.

“Okay, princess. Time for bed,” Gladio hefts Noct up on his shoulder without any effort, carrying him to the trailer.

“Shall we?” Asks Ignis, trying not to laugh at Noct’s protests.

“Mmm… yeah. Give me a moment?”

“Can it wait a few hours? It’s almost morning and we should be off not long after light to acquire the Fulgurian’s power. You should get some rest while you can.” 

“Yeah, I’ll only be a bit. Like… five minutes. Can’t pass up any shots at this time of day, amiright?”

“Very well,” Ignis frowns, and watches Prompto with fleeting worry. Something's off about his smile, too forced. Ah, well, one can only expect from a meeting with the Chancellor. He shakes off the rest of the bad thoughts and head back to the trailer.

_______.

Ignis wakes thirty minutes later, some fitful dream about the gods leaving an uneasy feeling in his core. Then he realizes that uneasy feeling might be because Prompto isn’t back yet, the spot on the bed beside Noct all but empty.

Huffing slightly, he pulls on his jacket and quietly goes outside. He knows Prompto has a tendency to get carried away and lose track of time, and he also know that if he doesn’t get Prompto now, he’s liable to stay out until they have to leave. Ignis proccedes to scan the ranch. Not one photographer in sight, which is strange, he can’t have gotten far. Something catches his eye, a flash of reflected sun, and he turns to see Prompto, near the road, leaning against a tree.

As he approaches, he sees that Prompto is without shoes or his vest, pants rolled up and legs speckled with mud. Prompto doesn’t notice him as he comes closer. 

Then he sees the scalpel. Realizing that… it isn’t mud.

Shit.  _ Shit.  _

“Prompto!” He gasps, sitting hard next to the boy. Prompto’s right wrist is covered in a steady stream of blood, a large chunk of skin and flesh is missing, and he still had the scalpel positioned above it. Ignis has him caught off guard, and as Prompto turns to look at him, he snatches the bloody tool from blood-slick fingers and tosses it across the field. He’ll pick it up later, it just needs to be away from Prompto right now.

“Ah- here, let me just-” he summons a potion, but Prompto intercepts his hand before he can give it to the boy.

“Please- no potions.” He’s begging, but it doesn’t feel like it. Prompto’s worryingly calm. Ignis wants to say ‘to hell with it’, and apply the potion anyway, but Prompto is in a delicate state, and it might be best not to disrupt it. Ignis pulls off his coat, gently taking Prompto’s butchered wrist and wrapping it to try and stop the blood flow.

Past that, Ignis doesn’t know what to do. Prompto won’t look at him. They need to find a doctor, already it’s starting to soak through the thin coat. 

“Can you stand?” He inquires, trying not to let his voice shake. Odd, he expected Prompto to be his usual self, freaking out. Their rolls were almost reversed. 

“Yeah, I didn’t hit an artery or anything,” Prompto’s voice is flat.

“Yes, of course,” he frowns, “lets go.”

“Uh Iggy-” he face flashes with vulnerability, “don’t… tell them? Please?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he hesitates, “promise. Let’s go.”

He stands and is waved away trying to help Prompto. They walk in silence to the camper. Gladio and Noctis are waiting outside, and they don’t look happy. Subconsciously, Ignis nudges Prompto to stand behind him, shielding the boy.

“Where were you?” Gladio asks sharply, still rumpled from sleep.

“Ah, Prompto had a bit of an accident. We should get him to a doctor to check it out.”

Noct’s eyes narrow, “give him a potion, we just stocked up.”

“I have, but best be sure,” he lies.

“Sure, there’s a place nearby, isn’t there?” Noct walks over to Prompto, “what happened?”

“I… tripped, cut my arm.”

“I have an idea, Gladio, Noct, why don’t we split. You two get the Fulgurian’s power, I’ll take Prompto to the doctor. We shan’t keep the god waiting.”

“I’m sure he can wait for this,” Noct grins, arm slung around Prompto.

Ignis raises his eyebrows, “Prompto? What do you think?”

“Yeah, It’s fine Specs,” he still won’t look at Ignis, but Noct seems to have lightened his mood.

“Great, let’s go,” Gladio charges at Prompto, scooping him up over his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down!” Prompto beats weakly at Gladio’s back.

“Sorry, Blondie. Can’t let you go getting hurt again,” Gladio laughs.

Prompto scoffs, “fine, but prepare to carry me the entire way, I’m not walking.”

“No problem, you’re a damn toothpick.”

“Hey! Says you, freakin’ behemoth.”

Noct is giggling hysterically, and Ignis wonders if it’s a side effect of the worry. He’s always been overly protective. 

“Well then, on our way.” 

“Where are your shoes?” Noct asks.

“Dunno.”

_______.

It takes an hour to reach a doctor, and an hour more to actually get Prompto in a room, and by then Noct and Prompto are both asleep. This leaves Ignis and Gladio to wait to be called, Ignis fretting with the coat around Prompto’s arm.

“What happened?” Gladio asked, trying not to disturb Noct’s head on his shoulder.

“He fell.”

“Why don’t I believe that?”

Ignis doesn’t answer.

“Prompto Argentum?” Asks a pleasant voice.

“Wake up, Prom,” Ignis whispers.

“Mph,” he groans.

“You two wait here,” Ignis gestures to the sleeping Noctis.

“Yeah.”

Ignis helps Prompto to one of the rooms, sitting him in the bed. A doctor walks in.

“So, what happened here?” The doctor smiles easily.

“We’ve had a little accident,” Ignis explains carefully.

“I see,” she pulls off the coat, dried blood sticking to the wound, making Prompto wince.

“I fell,” he says.

“Well I’m sure a well-placed potion will fix this whole ordeal-”

“No. No potions.”

The doctor’s forehead creases, “no?”

“No.”

“Okay. Well, I need some supplies, and some paperwork,” she looks to Ignis, “join me, will you?”

“Of course,” he stands, “I’ll only be a moment, Prompto.”

He follows the doctor outside to the desk, handing Ignis paperwork.

“He’ll need stitches,” she says to Ignis.

“Yes, I feared as much,” he replies, eyes scanning over the tiny print.

“Do you believe that he fell?”

Ignis freezes.

“I don’t mean to pry, the doctor continues, “but, well, I’ve seen enough patients like him to know that a fall doesn’t scrape skin that deep in a rectangle, believe me.”

“I don’t know what I can do to help him,” Ignis tells her.

The doctor shrugs, “I’m afraid I can’t help you there. Get him some help is all I can say.”

Ignis nods, handing back the paper pile. If only they had time for that, they’re already pushing it going to the doctor. He looks around, and finds the pamphlets rack. He grabs everyone he can find about self-harm and depression. 

“Here,” the doctor says, handing Ignis one more from behind the desk.

_______.

They’re waiting in the waiting room again. Gladio was less than pleased when he heard Prompto was going to need stitches. Mostly because the whole quest thing, and the fact they had to eat from the vending machine for lunch after missing breakfast. Ignis reads the pamphlets front to back multiple times, but can’t find anything really useful in them, nothing that he doesn’t already know. 

“Whatcha reading?” Gladio asks at some point.

“Nothing of import. It was on the table here,” and Gladio leaves it alone.

_______.

Prompto is released the next day. His arm bandaged and his eyes downcast.

“Yay,” Noct says with no enthusiasm, “now I can receive the power of the gods. Joy.”

“Quiet, princess.”

“Ready to go, Prom?” Gladio turns.

“Yup! Gods, here we come!”

“UGH,” Noct adds.

“Cheer up. And no more falling over, hear me?”

“Loud and clear!”

Ignis found Prompto’s shoes in the Armiger, but one thing is still missing.

“Prompto, do you have your bracelets?” Ignis asks.

Something like fear flies over Prompto’s face, and his hand grabs his wrist, making him grimace. Then, for the first time since he found him at the tree, a real, genuine smile. “Eh, don’t need ‘em.”

_______.

Over the next few weeks, the wound heals nicely, no infection, no complications. Prompto seems happy enough, but every time Ignis tries to broach the subject, Prompto waves him off. Each time he does, Ignis is pushed more and more out of his depth.

Then he loses his eyes.

Suddenly, Prompto’s the one taking care of him. That isn’t right.

Everything’s falling apart.

_______.

Then they’re on a train. Prompto sits with him, but they don’t talk. He knows Prompto doesn’t wear the bandage anymore, but when he takes his wrist when he stumbles, it feels wrong. He doesn’t wear his usual bracelets, and now he has a thick scar. Prompto doesn’t seem to mind it, either.

Then Prompto’s gone. Ignis wonders what he’s thinking now. He’s more worried than he can remember being in a long time. He knows worrying won’t do anything, but the likelihood Prompto is dead rises with each day.

It hurts to think about.

_______.

It hurts more in Zegnautus, when they find him. His voice is laced with pain. Prompto tells them vaguely about killing some magitek monster with Aranea. He’s wearing his bracelet again, and seems to constantly be in pain. He still doesn’t take a potion when offered.

Ignis stumbles along their trek, catching on Prompto's back to steady himself. Prompto yelps in pain, but helps steady Ignis.

He wonders what scars he’s hiding under his vest.

_______.

The reach a barricade. A lock they can’t open.   

“Guys… I can do it,” Prompto steps forward. Ignis can’t see him, but his voice is downtrodden. 

A barcode. On his right wrist. Ignis can feel the raised skin set in lines. 

They rest once more before seeing the crystal. Noct and Gladio go to get some more curatives, leaving Ignis and Prompto.

It’s silent for a good long while before Ignis speaks up.

“When you cut your wrist,” he begins. He can’t say more, the words stuck in his throat.

“I just wanted it gone, Iggy. Ardyn… he put it- he put it back. I just want it to be  _ gone. _ ”

Then Prompto is shaking, and Ignis knows that if he were to touch the boy’s face, he’d feel tears.

He’s never wanted to kill a man more than now.

“What did he do?”

Prompto shuffles beside him, takes Ignis’ hand and puts it lightly on his chest. His fingers brush over open scars, layed out carefully, almost like-

“Numbers.”

“My… designation, I guess.”

“Oh,” his hands travel to Prompto’s back, same thing.

“He didn’t like that I’d gotten rid of the barcode.”

“So it seems. Prompto…”

“Yeah?”

“Never. EVER. Hurt yourself like that again. Understand?”

“You got it, Iggy,” he hears Prompto put his shirt slowly back on.

Eventually Prompto falls asleep, Iggy keeping watch.

_______. _______.  

The Imperial dropship sucks. Prompto is terrified that something is going to go off that registers his barcode. Then Noct and them will find out, maybe they’ll throw him off the ship or something. He can’t sleep. Even if Iggy is keeping watch, his mind is spinning, imagination running wild. He looks through his camera. Iggy tells him to sleep. He can’t. Ignis goes to sleep.

Ardyn crouches in front of him, he looks down at him, thoroughly confused. Ardyn places his hand on Prompto’s wrist, he tries to pull away, but Ardyn doesn’t let go.

“Shhh,” he says softly, “make noise and I’ll tell them.”

“Tell them what?” He whispers.

“Don’t play stupid.”

“Are you going to…?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s more fun if they don’t know… for now.”

“What do you mean?” His breaths are coming out in shallow gasps.

“Well, it’s only a matter of time before they find out. You’ll slip up,” he strokes his wrist, “before they decide they don’t want you. Leave you behind, if they don’t kill you first.”

“No.” He says, louder than intended. Ardyn just laughs, moving his hand to Prompto’s knee.

“Hands off,” he hears Iggy say, and his head spins towards him. Ardyn goes away. Iggy said he didn’t hear anything, thank the gods.

_______.

Chocobos. Ah, chocobos. 

They make things better.

Almost.

He can’t take his mind off the barcode. It’s like it’s burning through his arm, or putting off a big sign that says ‘outsider’ for everyone to see.

It has to go.

He finds a scalpel in the shed. Probably for chocobo emergencies. He makes sure it’s clean.  He could use a dagger, but the scalpel is probably more accurate. Prompto sits against a tree where he thinks he far enough away. This shouldn’t take long. He puts his vest in the Armiger so not to get it dirty, and rolls up his pants. He puts his shoes in the Armiger too. The grass is cool and nice under his feet. That’ll give him something to concentrate on.

It hurts, first digging the scalpel under his skin, and he almost screams aloud. He takes his bracelet and bites down on it. Prompto makes shallow cuts around the barcode, thinking it will be easier.

It isn’t, and it takes a long time to finally get if off, and the blood on his left hand is making the scalpel hard to hold, and as he’s already clumsy with his non-dominant hand, sometimes the cuts go too deep or all over the place. The skin on the ground is really gross too, so when he’s done he throws his bracelet on top of it, he won’t need it anymore, hopefully. The wound is spitting blood at him, and he prods it with the scalpel. He doesn’t feel like himself, too calm, cold, distant. Like he’s floating. Maybe it’s the blood. 

“Prompto!” Someone gasps, sitting next to him. He doesn’t react more than a slight turn of his head, even as the scalpel is wrenched from his slippery fingers. Oh, it’s Iggy. Shit.

He doesn’t really hear anything being said to him, A flash of blue as a potion is summoned.

No, no no no. The barcode will just grow back, he knows that. He can’t have that happen, Ignis will see it, then what will happen? Prompto stops his hand, maybe he says something, he can’t really hear himself either, but he can’t look at Iggy. His thoughts are kinda out of order. Or random. Maybe it’s the blood. 

Ignis’ nice coat is wrapped around his wrist. Prompto probably should’ve stopped the bleeding earlier, he wonders why he didn’t.

He tries to act normal, though he still feels detached. Gladio carries him. He doesn’t remember what happened to his shoes. Noct makes things easier.

_______.

The doctor goes by in a blur. No potions. He sees Ignis carrying an ill-concealed pamphlet on self-harm and depression. He doesn’t know how to correct him.

_______.

Iggy is blind. It isn’t right. It kinda hurts to see him when he can’t see Prompto back. He’s almost relieved, in a selfish way. Gladio and Noct aren’t paying him any attention, so he’s allowed to relax. Give up the facade of happiness. Sometimes Ignis will feel over the scar left from the scalpel. He thinks it’s suppose to be comforting, sort of like saying ‘it’s okay, you’ll be okay’. It’s nice. Even though the barcode’s gone, he still feels like he needs to hide the scar with his bracelet. Said bracelet is still at the chocobo post, so he can’t.

_______.

He doesn’t like this part. He can’t think about it a lot. Did Noct find out? Did he decide he didn’t want him? Was it because Ignis told him Prompto tried to cut his wrists? Did Ardyn spill the beans on Prompto? Noctis didn’t want a broken friend.

_______.

Apparently Ardyn doesn’t want a broken MT either, because after he spills his feelings and what he did to himself to Aranea (who does a very un-Aranea like thing to do, and actually hugs him before he leave to Graelea) Ardyn recaptures him. Already not pleased to find the barcode gone. 

He… he remembers being knocked off his snowmobile. Someone was standing above him. He blacked out and… 

He wakes up strung to some metal structure, and in vain tries to struggle.

Ardyn enters.

_______.

Day One.

Captivity with Ardyn is boring, full of snarky comments on Prompto’s end and (hopefully) empty threats from Ardyn.

_______.

Day Two.

Ardyn enters with his usual swagger. He would come and go a lot yesterday.

“Heyaz,” Prompto says.

“My boy,” Ardyn softly touches Prompto’s face, ignoring his protests of disgust, “I think it is time we did something about your… problem.”

“Problem?” He asks, breathing hitching when Ardyn brushes his thumb along Prompto’s cheekbone.

“Yes, you seem to be forgetting something.”

“Yeah?” 

Ardyn’s caressing movements ceased, and in a flash his hand moved and tightened around his still-sore wrist.

“Do you know what it feels like to get a tattoo?”

“No! Please, no,” Prompto pulls at the restraints, on the verge of panicking. 

“I’m afraid you don’t get to choose, darling.”

_ Pain. _

_______.

Day Three.

Hghh… ws’t… hrrrrr’t… 

“What was that, love?”

“Hrr-rt. St’pp, ple-sss.”

“Oh it hurts? Oh dear, whatever shall we do?” He pressed the knife deeper into his collarbone. 

He screams.

_______.

Day Four.

Ardyn takes him down from his restraints, lays him stomach down (ouch) on a metal table. Oh, his shirt is gone. When did that happen?

“Ard’n.”

“Mmm?”

He doesn’t know. Ardyn stop? Ardyn please? It won’t do anything, he knows.

He’s kinda hungry

“F’d”

“What?”

“F-food. Ple-se. Please.”

“No.”

“Wt-r’?

“Soon enough, kitten. Tell me, can you read the number on your wrist?”

He lifts his head as much as he can. The numbers are blurry.

“N-o.”

“Here, I’ll help you with that.”

He feels cold metal push through the skin.

“Can you tell me what numbers I’m writing?” He cuts a circle.

“Ah! Z-zero,” he twitches.

“Good!”

“Fi-ve. Nine. F-five,” he hesitates, “N-ine?”

Ardyn pushes the knife deep, deep into his back. He feels it go past the muscle. Ardyn twists it and pulls it out. Prompto’s voice is raw.

“Wrong. Try again.”

At the end of the day, he’s strung back up, a small amount of potion force-fed to him, as always. Ardyn holds a water bottle to his mouth too, and drips the water at an agonizingly slow pace into his mouth. That in itself is torture.

_______.

Day Five.

Ardyn pulls up a chair and sits in front of him.

“Given up yet, poppet?” 

“N-no.”

“I’m surprised! Days of torture, no one coming to save you, no food, water and still.”

“F-f-fuck you.”

“Now that isn’t very nice.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh, dear. Unit 05953234, you know what happens when you disrespect your superiors.”

“You're not… my fuckin’ superior. ‘M not an MT.”

“Are you sure? I’d check your wrist again.”

“No.”

“I don’t tolerate disrespect,” he says again, “especially not from daemons in metal suits.”

“I’m… not… please.”

“What’s your name?”

“Zero five nine f- no. Promp-t-t-o? No. Please…”

“Please what, dear?”

“What my desi- name?”

“05953234,” Ardyn looks concerned, “are you okay?”

“Yes. No. Uh… I’m confused.”

“That’s alright.”

“Don’t h-hurt me.”

“I would never.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

_______.

_ “I think he’s stopped breathing!” _

Has he? He’s floating again, so maybe. Who’s Ardyn talking to? Not him. Wait, who's there? Someone’s pulling at his restraints. They’re calling to him…

Prompto?

Noct!

He tries to gasp out, but he’s falling now. Where? Where? Noctis places his hand on Prompto’s cheek, thumb on the cheekbone-

_ Problem? _

“No! You… can’t.”

“Prom? Prom, please, just breathe!”

“My… name. Zero, five-” 

“Hey! Hey, you’re okay, okay? Deep breaths,” why is this voice deeper? Gladio?

Gladio’s hand is on his collarbone.

_ Oh it hurts? Oh dear, whatever shall we do? _

Breathe.

Someone’s telling him something.

_ Real. You are real, Prompto Argentum. Look at me. _

It doesn’t sound like Ardyn this time.

_______.

They… accepted him, and Prompto swears, it’s the best he’s felt in months. It doesn’t make Ardyn go away. It doesn’t suddenly erase weeks of psychological and physical torture, lots of which was self-inflicted.

Now he’s able to open up to Ignis.

It isn’t much, but it’s a step.

Suddenly he’s twelve again, running to lose weight for Prince Noctis. 

Not something he ever wanted to relive.

It’s different this time, though, isn’t it? This time it’s for himself. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Roll Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and bed sharing, but just being bros. You can see it as a ship, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be that one fluff fic in the sea of sadness.

 

Noctis is already sleeping in the car. Prompto hates hunts like these, ones that leave the four of them physically and mentally exhausted. He knows him and the guys are used to it, two of the  formidable crownsguard, the freaking future king, and one long distance runner. The only catch is not having anywhere to go at the end of the day. Maybe Ignis can secure a place if they have the funds, but that isn’t certain. They’ve been running low to the point that Prompto isn’t even sure if Gladio is up for another night of camping. They pull up to the parking lot of Lestallum. Noctis groans and stumbles out of the car, squinting even though it’s late evening. Ignis catches him as he stumbles. Prompto trips too, but Gladio just snickers at him. 

“I’m going to take Noct and secure a room, can you two restock our potion supply?” Asks Ignis, trying to get Noct to stand on his own, “cash in on the hunt, see what that gives us.”

“Yeah!” Prompto grins, “c’mon big guy.”

Gladio rolls his eyes, but nods and follows Prompto to a supply. They buy a few hi-potions before they run out of gil.

“Lets just hope Ignis got us a room,” Gladio sighs, looking at the pitiful amount of potions they got.

“Yeah,” he bounces, “no way am I sleeping in a tent again.”

“We could always rent the caravan.”

“Nah, it’s already taken. We’d have to drive to find one, and I don’t think Iggy wants to at night.”

They arrive at the hotel, Ignis is standing outside, arms crossed.

“They had rooms,” he starts.

“And?” Prompto and Gladio ask at the same time.

“Only two single ones, small beds this time, so some of us might get the sofa in the rooms.”

“How are they  _ this _ busy?”

“Refugees from Insomnia, probably,” Gladio shrugs.

“Ugh, well, I call bunking with Noct,” Prompto interjects.

Ignis sighs exasperatedly, “fine, I’ll go with Gladio.”

Prompto runs into the Levile, bumping Noct (who is currently napping on the lobby couch) on the shoulder. Noctis swats his hand away without conviction.

“Looks like you’re bunking with me, buddy!”

“Yay.” He groans, closing his eyes again.

Ignis tosses Prompto a key, of which he fumbles with for a good minute before he catches it. He pulls Noct up by the arm and practically drags him to their room, and… shit.

One, relatively small bed and… that’s it. A bathroom with no bathtub. A cupboard with some pillows. No sofa. He can guess that Ignis and Gladio’s room looks the same. Noct crashes in the bed immediately. No way either of them are sleeping on the floor. Prompto is used to sharing a bed with him anyway, but never this small.

“I’m going to clean up,” Noct says, “you going to after me?”

“Sure,” Prompto tells him, “there’s no tub, though.”

It takes a while for both of them to clean (with a washcloth), and when they’re done, it’s well into the night. The lay next to each other. Noct is asleep three seconds later, but as it turns out, Prompto can’t really sleep. Maybe it’s because Noct keeps tossing. It was never a problem in a bigger bed, Prompto sleeps curled up on his side, not moving, taking up as little space as possible. He never used to do this, but sharing a bed with Noct can do that to a person. He flinches when Noctis’ arm hits him, then as his leg shoots out and kicks his shin.

“Ow!”

“Mph… what?”

“Wait,” Prompto gets up, scanning the cupboard and grabbing the extra pillows. He takes as many as he can hold and builds a cushy wall between him and Noct.

“Better?” Noct asks sarcastically.

“Yup. Night, dude.”

No response. He feels himself drifting off, and he’s asleep for a bit until-

_ THUMP. _

Prompto is on the floor, some of the pillows from the impenetrable wall on top of him. Noctis is sitting up, an impish, guilty look on his face.

“Nooooooct,” Prompto groans.

“Oops.”

Prompto snorts and crawls back in bed. 

“Goodnight for real now,” Noctis says confidently.

“Oh, we can hope,” he replies dramatically.

“‘Night Prom.”

“Yup.”

He falls asleep again. 

He dreams.

Prompto always has this dream. He’s covered in black blood, following MTs in full sprint, he can’t keep up with them, and as he’s falling behind, Noctis, Gladio and Ignis catch up to him. It used to be just Noct, but after high school that changed. They laugh at him, and though he’s still running, they’re walking just as fast as him. They grab him and tell him all the things he never wants to hear, about his barcode, his past, and they’re hurting him. They pull his hair. Scratch his face, shaking him really hard and-

“Hey! Prom, wake up!”

He gasps, shaking in a cold sweat.

“Dude, you were having a nightmare. You were trying to rip your face off and stuff, are you okay?”

Prompto wants to say yes, but he can’t talk. This was the worst dream yet. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or the bruises from the hunts.

“Hey, look at me,” Noct looks worried, “don’t cry, you’re safe. You’re safe.”

Oh, is he crying? Shit, he is. He can’t stop, he’s trying but that just makes it worse, and he’s kinda panicking-

Noctis wraps him in his arms, hand tentatively petting his hair.

“‘M fine, Noct.”

“Prompto?”

“Mmm?”

“Shut up.”

He continues to hold Prompto until he shaking and muffled cries stop. He falls asleep like that. Noctis stays awake with him until he does.

One other thing Prompto does is hog the blankets, he knows this because Noct will always grab another set in their usual room. They don’t have that this time, so when Prompto wakes up some time later, he finds that Noct is curled up against his back, one leg draped over him, arms

around him.

He can feel Noct absorbing his heat.

It’s actually pretty comfortable. 

He’s asleep again.

  
  


**_______. MEANWHILE**

  
  


Ignis is wary of the room. In no reality will he be sleeping well tonight. Especially not in a bed of  _ that  _ size. He can see Gladio trying to do the math in his head.

“I can take the floor,” Gladio suggests.

“No, you took a bad hit, you should have the bed.”

“You got pretty beat up too,” Gladio sits on the far side of the bed, shrugging with raised eyebrows, suggesting what he doesn’t need words to express. 

“If we are going to be sharing a bed, at least brush your teeth,” Ignis tells him flatly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gladio heads to the bathroom and Ignis hears the sink turn on.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

After they both are done, they climb in to the bed. It’s a tight fit, even with Gladio on his side, but they make due. Within minutes, the shield is snoring.

Very loudly, for that matter.

Ignis thinks it might be that the potion they used on his broken nose didn’t heal it straight, because he’s never snored before. Just his luck. Oh, well. He tries to fall asleep, but as he starts to drift, Gladio rolls on his back, and the awful noise gets louder. After another few minutes, Ignis has had enough. He kicks his leg, and when that doesn’t work, he goes for the stomach, legs again, thighs, shins, and keeps going until Gladio wakes up, mumbling.

“You kickin’ me?” He asks angrily.

“You were snoring,” replies Ignis sharply, “try to restrain yourself or Noct will have to drive tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Gladio sneers, sleep-disturbed. 

“Good night.”

“Uh-huh.”

All is peaceful once more, Gladio’s snoring is more minimal on his side, and Ignis can finally sleep. He gets so far as to dream.

He dreams about being suffocated, and it startles him to wakefulness. Oh, so he _ is  _ being suffocated, because Gladio is on top of him, stretched out on his back, and pining Ignis down. Usually Gladio is quite still when his sleeps, but maybe, given he likes sleeping on his back, the position of sleeping on his side became uncomfortable. Ignis thinks he’s far worse off though, as he twists and tries to wriggle out from under the bigger man, but to no avail. He finds his arms also trapped, clasped under Gladio’s back. For a moment, he thinks about yelling him awake, but these are thin walls, after all. He tries kicking again, but he can’t move enough for a decent kick. 

Ignis gasps for air, lungs compressed considerably. He thinks that if he passes out, he might, at last, get some rest, but no. He rather fall asleep on his own, thank-you-very-much.

He bites down on Gladio’s ear,  _ hard. _

Ignis doesn’t think he’s ever heard the man ‘yelp’ before. It works, however, and Gladio glares at him as he rolls over again. 

It’s going to be a long night, he thinks.

 

_______.

 

When he wakes up, it’s early morning, but still later than usual. He nudges Gladio, whose first reaction is to swat at him, muttering incoherently. 

Ignis sighs, “come, you can be mad later. We’ve got things to do,” he hits him again, and this time Gladio rises.

It satisfies Ignis a bit to see faint bruises on Gladio’s legs. Oh, and some teeth marks on his ear. How peculiar. 

“Imma get dressed” he tells Ignis as he stands. 

“Of course,” Ignis starts to change his clothing as well, and as he’s picking up his discarded shirt and pants, he notices they smell strongly of Gladio’s cologne. He’ll have to wash these.

When the shield walks out of the bathroom again, Ignis knows he’ll be pissy for the rest of the week. Gladio glares at Ignis again before they go to rouse the other boys.

Who, as they guessed, aren’t even awake yet, and neither of them have the heart to wake them, Noctis spooning Prompto, both blissfully snoozing. (Gladio grabs a snapshot on his phone, ‘for later’, he says. Ignis rolls his eyes in response).

 

_______.  **MORNING**

 

Prompto untangles himself from Noct as gently as possible, gets changed and ready for the day ahead. Noct follows him shortly after. The chat idly about King’s Knight, about stocking up on more elixirs, that sort of thing. 

They meet Ignis and Gladiolus in the lobby, and Prompto notices they both seem on-edge. 

“Wait, dude, why is there a bite mark on your ear?” Then the implications set in, “oh, uh, I mean-”

Gladio’s hand flies to his ear, then he turns to Ignis, glowering.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” is all he says.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think in the comments!


	3. Small Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noctis puts together pieces of Prompto's past, and everything is starting to click for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know how long this is going to go on for, but I take prompts in the comments! Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, this was self-edited very late at night.

Noctis doesn’t react to Prompto’s origins. He doesn’t know why. He knows he should be feeling surprised, angry, or betrayed that his best friend thought to keep that hidden from him. That his best friend thought he would just… let him go, to put it nicely. Maybe that’s why he can’t bring himself to say more than ‘so what’. Maybe the others sense that too, and they keep just as quiet.

It’s only when they rest at a bunk that Noct starts to feel a bit annoyed. Prompto thought he would actually push him off a train, that Ardyn had absolutely nothing to do with it. He stares at Prompto’s battered form, and he knows the wounds Ardyn left him go deeper than physical. At least Noctis can blame someone other than his best friend for what happened.

None of them can sleep. 

“Prompto,” Ignis starts, “why don’t you tell us where you’ve been? I’m sure it’s quite the tale.”

“Yeah,” Gladio adds, “if it beats mine maybe I’ll stop calling you ‘blondie’.”

“‘Shortcake’ too,” Prompto tells him, smiling.

“Woah,” Noct stands, holding his hands in a ‘T’, “too far.”

They laugh for a bit, but lapse into silence soon after. It’s been like this a lot.

“Honestly, not much…” Prompto sighs, looking like he’s in an internal struggle, “that’s a lie, lots happened.”

“Tell us,” Ignis says, putting out a hand to find his bony shoulder.

“Er, well, I don’t remember much from after the train… I think Ardyn gave me a potion or something. After I fell, I mean.”

“What?” Noctis scowls, “why would he do that?” He knows the answer, to keep him alive, to bait Noctis.

“Dunno,” Prompto shrugs, “I wandered after that, where I thought the train was going. I blacked out but… I escaped a Niff facility or something. Aranea helped. That’s it, I guess.”

“Wait, if you escaped…” Gladio leaves the question hanging. Prompto winces slightly and touches the scar on his temple.

“Blacked out,” he says.

Bullshit, Noct thinks. He’s still hiding things from them, gods know why. 

“Were you in that… trap for long?” Noct asks quietly.

Prompto doesn’t answer for a bit, “no. A few hours, maybe.”

He’s lying again, Noct has known him long enough to tell. He scratches his wrist when he lies, or plays with his wristband.

Oh.

Everything is starting to click.

 

**THREE YEARS AGO.**

 

Noct stood outside Prompto’s house, they had decided they’d meet there so they could go to the arcade together. This wasn’t the first time he’d been to Prompto’s house, but it still felt weird. Like it wasn’t his eccentric best friend who lived here, the house didn’t have nearly enough photos, or chocobo-related things or even family photos in it. Or any of those things, for that matter. Usually the house was missing parents, too.

Prompto opened the door, all flustered smiles.

“Sorry!” He said, shuffling to close the door behind him, locking it, “lost my keys!”

“Of course you did,” Noct punched him playfully.

“Yeah, yeah,” Prompto threw an arm around him. The arcade was only a short walk away.

They played there for a bit before going to some food place with great burgers. At least, Prompto thought they were great, but they tasted like cardboard to Noctis.

“Er, can I have fries?” Asked Prompto to the waiter.

“Large fries,” Noct added, “we’ll share.”

Prompto nodded in agreement, and they chatted idly about King’s Knight. It was relaxing, peaceful. Then Prompto’s wristband caught on his sweater zipper. Noctis can still hear the sound of it tearing. He can still see Prompto’s face, turned sheet white. His band fell to the ground, and his other hand flew to cover his exposed wrist.

Noct remembers his breathing quickening, the way he screwed his eyes shut.

It took Noct three seconds to realize his friend was on the verge of a big panic attack. He always used to have them at school, hiding in an empty room or closet until he calmed down. After Noctis found out and would stay with him, they stopped. 

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling something out of his pockets and sliding it to Prompto. He didn’t know what was wrong, but it had something to do with the bracelet he was too protective over.

Prompto opened his eyes, tears forming, and looked down at what Noctis had given him.

Leather bracelets. A few of them.

“Take them,” Noct said, “Iris made them. She said to give one to you. The rest were for me,” Noct rolled his eyes, “like I would wear these, right?”

Prompto laughed quietly at that, left hand grabbing them and putting them on under the table, fidgeting with them for longer than needed. Prompto smiled a very small smile, and held them up for Noct. A few of them on each wrist.

He nodded, “dude, those are  _ way  _ better than the other one. It was older than Bahamut.”

“Yeah,” Prompto agrees, shaking still, “I’ve had that for forever.”

“I know, I’ll tell Iris you like them.”

“Thank you,” Prompto, and his expression conveys something that went way over Noctis’ head at the time.

 

**TWO YEARS AGO.**

 

Sometimes Noctis wonders why he’s never seen Prompto’s parents. Everytime he asks about it, Prompto makes some excuse about them being ‘out of town’.

Sometimes Noctis wonders how they were always out of town whenever he went over to Prompto’s house. 

It was an exception this time. 

Him and Prompto were sitting on the couch, playing some game on their phones when someone knocked on the door.

Prompto frowns.

“Dude, if you ordered pizza, I swear I’ll have you knighted or something.”

“I didn’t, unfortunately.”

Something was off, usually Prompto would’ve made a bad joke and used some finger guns, but he just stands up, checks the calendar and swears quietly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Er- I think my parents are home, sorry, I wasn’t really expecting them until later.”

“Answer the door then,” Noct commented as the knocking persists.

Prompto does so, smiling forcefully as his parents walk through the door, mumbling about something.

“Prompto,” said the woman, “take a little longer next time, will you?”

“Sorry. Uh, mum-”

“What, no hello?” Asks the man, frowning.

“Hi, but-”

They notice Noct, sitting cross-legged on the couch. He waves.

Both parents freeze.

“Yo,” he said, imaging Ignis yelling at his for lack of courtesy in the background.

“Your Highness,” they said, bowing.

Prompto was standing awkwardly behind his parents. His mom put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him forward.

“Prompto didn’t tell us you would be here, so forgive us for our lack of… preparation.” His dad moved to Prompto’s right, hand squeezing his wrist.

“No need,” Noct replied easily, eyeing his friend’s wary expression, “we were just playing games.”

“Give us a moment, Highness?” Asked the mom with a tight smile, but still nervously.

“Would you like me to go?”

“No! No, please, stay for dinner.”

“Uh, I don’t think my dad will let me. Got some dinner tonight,” and in Noct’s head, he thought he should feel okay dropping some of the ‘princely act’ with his best friend’s parents, but it only felt wrong.

“Of course,” they bow again before leaving the room, dragging Prompto behind them.

“Oh, dude,” he says before the door is closed, “can you plug my phone in?” Noct nods to Prompto’s request.

Noct, the eavesdropper that he still is, listens in through the door, not that it’s hard.

“Prompto,” the father snapped, “what did we tell you about manners? Around the prince, no less!”

“We’re friends! He’s cool with it, ask him.”

“And when he realizes who you are?” The mother snapped back.

“He _ likes  _ me.”

“Gods, you are dim. You know what I mean.”

“Please let go of my wrist, mum.”

His father hissed, “don’t tell your mother what to do. She is making a point.”

“He’ll drop you when it’s convenient, or when he figures it out,” the mother told him, “so don’t you come crying to us when he decides to stop playing with you.”

“He could have you hanged if he wanted.”

“He won’t. Ever. You are hurting me, let go.”

“I don’t think you understand.”

“I do, alright? But Noct is nice. He is better than nice, and he wouldn’t do that.”

“Where is your bracelet?”

“Broke, I got another one.”

“You didn’t take care of it, you mean.”

“I did! Can you just stop it? I can make my own choices, you know!”

Sounds of shuffling.

A muffled yelp.

“Understand?”

“... yes mum. Yes dad.”

“Good. Let’s not keep your… friend… waiting, hmm?”

They emerged. Noctis knew he was glaring, but that didn’t stop him from doing it, especially seeing the way Prompto’s eyes skit away anytime someone tried to meet them. He was grabbing his wrist like it hurt him, though there was no bruising or scratches anywhere on or around it. Noct secretly check it out while they changed in gym class for a long time after that. In any case, they sat down, talked about nothing and Noct left. He went straight to Ignis.

“Iggy,” he said, “I need help.”

Ignis had told Noct there was really nothing they could do unless they could actually prove it. The best Noct could do was to be there for his friend, and make sure he was alright. Noctis was too afraid to approach Prompto about it. So he didn’t.

 

**FIVE MONTHS AGO.**

 

“Hunting,” Noctis groaned in dismay, “again?”

“Seems so,” Ignis replied coolly, “never can be too prepared when it comes to funds.”

“Besides,” Gladio butts in, “it’s an easy hunt. Garulas are weak. Sort of like… you.”

“Hey!”

“He’s got you there, buddy,” laughed Prompto from the front seat of the car.

“What are you trying to say?” Noct grumbled, “I don’t have to lift a finger, I could impale you with my sword.”

“Prove it.”

“I can’t, we have no potions to revive you if that happens.”

“When did we run out?”

“Enough,” sighs Ignis, “look, we’re almost there.”

“Wait, when did we decide we were going on a hunt?”

“Ten minutes ago. We had the flyer from a while back, and you were too asleep to care,” Gladio shows him a folded piece of yellow paper.

“Last part is true,” added Prompto, “I’ve got photographic evidence.”

“Wha- you didn’t!”

“I did,” Prompto grinned and begun to flip through his camera, nodding and snickering occasionally.

“You son of a-”

“Ah, look, we’re here.” Ignis pulled over sharply, sending all of them tumbling to the side.

“What was that?” Noct snapped.

“Apologies.”

They trekked through marsh until they found their prey, four massive Garulas roaming peacefully.

“Ready?” Ignis asked, “on three. One-”

“Two three,” Noctis warped across the field and into one of the beast’s sides. It bucked wildly with a sword in its side, Noct desperately trying to hold on.

“Noct!” Prompto called, bolting in after him. Gladio sent Ignis a meaningful look, but soon ran after them.

Noctis and Prompto fight side-by-side, and they are on the very last Garula when-

“Noct-”

The prince turns around just in time to see Prompto being flung across the field by the angry beast, landing with a sickening crunch.

“Prompto!” Noct yells, calling the attention of Gladio and Ignis. Gladio finishes the beast with one last strong blow to the head.

“Is he alright?” Ignis asked Noct, already crouched over Prompto’s despondent body.

“I don’t know, he isn’t-”

“Calm down, he just passed out,” Gladio said, “Broken wrist, though.”

“How do we remove these bracelets?” Noct asked, playing with the latch to no avail.

“How does he usually take them off?”

“He doesn’t,” Noct frowned, sitting Prompto upright.

“If worse comes to worse we’ll cut them off, but for now we need to camp,” Ignis pushes up his glasses, “it’s getting late, and I don’t fancy being attacked by daemons.”

“What about Prompto? We don’t have any potions to help him.”

“Fix him up at camp,” Gladio shrugs, standing and tossing the boy over his shoulder, mindful of the wrist, “potions in the morning, if we can.”

“What do you mean ‘if’?” 

Ignis sighed, “the car is rather low on fuel. It’s a long trip, and it’s likely we’ll run out.”

Noct groaned, “naturally. Let’s go, then.”

The hike to the nearest camp was longer than they’d thought, and in the last few minutes of travel, they were forced to run from incoming daemons. When they got to the haven, they dropped Prompto to the floor, he who apparently had come to as soon as they started running. His face was contorted in pain, but otherwise amused that Gladio had to carry him all the way.

“Alright,” Ignis held out a hand, “let me see your wrist.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Uh, I mean-” he stammered, “I just, I just wanted some… practice. Binding my wrist.”

“What,” said Noct flatly.

“Uh, well, it isn’t that bad, so I thought-”

“Eh, let him,” Gladio told a protesting Ignis, “I wanna see him fail.”

“Hey!”

“He’s got you there,” Noct smirked, “really though, are you sure you don’t want help?”

“Yeah! Pass me the bandages.”

Ignis tossed some to him, and Prompto sat at the opposite end of the camp, quickly removing his bands, and easily wrapping from knuckles to elbow. A few minutes later, he successfully holds up his arm to Gladio.

“Take that, big guy!”

“I’m impressed.”

“Done that before, have you?” Ignis inquired casually.

“Er, yeah. Once, for a sprain.”

“Shouldn’t you have checked that out?”

“Probably.”

_______.

 

As suspected, the car ran out of gas just as Ignis was able to pull to the side of the road.

“Shit,” Gladio said.

“Thankfully I can call Cindy and we can wait for her here. Night isn’t coming anytime soon.”

“Ugh, this sucks,” Prompto complained, leaning his head back into the seat.

“Hey, you get to see Cindy, at least,” Noct punched Prompto’s arm.

“Let us try not to objectify her, shall we boys?” Ignis rolled his eyes as he got out of the car, opening the door for Noctis. He pulled out his phone and stepped away to chat.

“How are you doing?” Noctis asked.

“Ouch,” Prompto responded, making no move to get out of the Regalia.

“Suck it up, wimpy,” Gladio knocked him on the back of his head, standing next to Noct.

“She’s on her way,” Ignis said, making his way to the rest of them and frowning at Prompto, “may I see your wrist?”

“Um, it’s fine, Iggy. Seriously.”

“Prompto I promise I will not do anything to it, I just want to see.”

Prompto looks on the verge of panicking now, breathing quickened and left hand gripping his pants. Noct knows this part.

“Hey, it’s fine. Prom. You don’t have to take off the bandage,” Noctis puts a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. Prompto nodded wordlessly.

Ignis and Gladio cast glances at each other, and Noct knows them well enough to read their silent conversation.

_ What the hell? _

_ I don’t know, drop it for now. _

_ Ask Noct later? _

_ Yes. _

“Why don’t you get some rest, hmm?” Ignis asked, smiling assuringly, “it may take a while for Cindy to get out here.”

“‘Kay,” Prompto smiles weakly in return, leaning back again and safely dozing off.

They step away, so not to wake him with their conversation. Gladio turns to Noct, “what the hell?”

“He gets panic attacks sometimes,” Noct shrugs, “I don’t know.”

“And what about the bandage, is that what set it off?”

“Maybe, he’s always been weird with covering his wrists up.”

Gladio’s face darkened, “has he.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without them. Even when he was really little.”

They are silent for a few moments, each thinking of a different possible cause.

“His parents?” Suggests Ignis.

“What about?”

“They may make him wear it for some reason or another,” Ignis raised his eyebrows, and Noct knew he was referencing the first and last time he met Prompto’s parents.

“Er, I don’t think so,” Noct frowned.

“Why not?” Snarls Gladio, “it’s not out of the question.”

“He would have told us by now,” Noctis shakes his head, “he knows he can trust us.”

“Besides,” Ignis said quietly, “his parents di- went missing in Insomnia, there should be no reason to wear it anymore.”

“How do you know?”

“Sentiment.”

A horn went off behind them, and they all turned to see Cindy honking the horn a small distance away. She leaned out the window, smiling brightly.

“Need a lift?” She asked.

_______.

 

They arrived at Hammerhead a while later, Prompto sleeping through the entire ride, and Cindy blissfully unaware of the tension between the three of them. As soon as they secure the car with Cindy, they drag Prompto to get a few potions. He sighed in relief as it healed, rotating it.

“Damn, that’s so much better.”

“I bet,” laughs Ignis as Prompto started to vigorously shake his hand in Noct’s face.

“Here,” Gladio grabs Prompto’s wrist mid-wave, peeling at the bandages still on it.

“Hey!” He wrenched his wrist away.

Gladio backs away, hands up, “sorry.”

“I’ve got your bracelets, Prom,” Noctis tells him, stopping him from glaring at Gladio.

“Thanks, dude.”

They never saw him put them on. He walked away to do that.

 

**NOW.**

 

“Ever at your side.”

“You… know you can tell me anything, right?”

“‘Course!”

“Then why didn’t you?”`

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment with what you think and leave kudos!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment and leave kudos- I take requests! Also points if you get where I got the titles


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